Hey Jealousy
by seriousscientist
Summary: While this isn't the first time he's been persecuted for loving a woman, Snow doesn't appear to be out for his hand. He thinks he'd probably know how to handle that better. Implied CS.


AN: So during my summer rewatch I found myself annoyed with Snow. She takes much longer than anyone else to warm up to Hook, without any real reason. So I fixed it.

* * *

He ceased all inappropriate comments directed at her person.

He took off his hook (Around town and the babe anyway. In the privacy of their home its still fair game.) (He's also careful never to refer to it as _their_ home in front of her. As far as she's concerned, he still has a room at Granny's. And with an extra large tip for Ruby at breakfast time, the guest book always confirms this.)

He's done dishes.

He's changed diapers.

He wore jeans to Sunday dinner. With his shirt buttoned. All the way. (It was suffocating and hot and he sweat through the blasted "undershirt", which he supposes then served its purpose at least.)

He carried box after box of shoes into their new home. (And up two flights of stairs.)

He stopped carrying his flask.

He _cooked_ Sunday dinner. (In "Emma's" kitchen. Despite the fact that Emma doesn't know a paring knife from a butter knife and didn't even know she owned a spice rack, much less that the entire cabinet was alphabetized... Some navy habits are just hard to break.)

But still, Snow hates him. She finds every opportunity to remind him of his pirate status (on the rare occasion that she acknowledges him at all) and seems to beleaguered by his presence always.

So, after 3 months, he needs a break. He's skipping their new Sunday dinner ritual. He's not giving up because, by gods, he loves Emma and Henry and he will fight for them. But he's worn down and raw and he just doesn't know what else to do besides take some time to regroup. He had expected the Prince to be less than thrilled with the idea of his daughter and a pirate. He knew he'd have a challenge in convincing the lad that he wasn't trying to replace his father. He expected the inquisition from the dwarves (he'd read Henry's book, they were protective of her mother of course such courtesy would be extended to her daughter. But really, a few nights at the bar on his tab was all it had taken. Plus one thrown game of darts.)

He didn't expect the Princess, the number _one_ champion of second chances, to be his biggest challenge. He'll never underestimate the lastingness of a first impression again.

So, on this Sunday, instead of worrying that he's passing the potatoes too forcefully, or using the wrong fork or forcing himself to chew chew _chew_ his food to avoid opening his mouth and saying the wrong thing, he follows Emma and Henry to the car, ensures they're safely ensconced inside and then turns to walk into town as the bug heads the opposite way towards the Charmings.

Emma pretended to buy his lie that he had plans to meet up with some of his old crew for drinks. They don't talk about it, but he knows its beginning to wear on her, too, this chasm between he and her mother, which isn't getting necessarily wider, but isn't lessening at all. But everything is too new: them, her acceptance of her family, its all too fragile to risk the argument. In fact, he thinks she might have been a bit relieved to not have to play peacemaker this week.

So he sits at a table at the back of the bar and nurses the same drink for hours (and says hello to Smee, so maybe he won't have _completely_ lied about his plans for the night). He checks his cellphone every fifteen minutes hoping its time to go home.

That is, until Snow bursts through the door and his heart stops and drops into his stomach and he fears the worst. Emma, Henry, the baby, someone must be hurt. But then she pulls off her cap and calls a drink order out to Ruby and slides into the booth across from him.

She says nothing until her drink arrives, taking a deep swallow first, and he's impressed that she barely winces at the burn of what he knows is lousy whiskey.

"I don't hate you." She grimaces as she says it.

"Pardon, but the need for fortification first leaves some doubt to the voracity of that statement."

She glares at him and then seems to remember that it doesn't help her purposes. She takes another, smaller sip before just blurting it all out.

"I knew. I knew from the day you showed up. Well, maybe not _that_ day, I mean, there was the whole Cora thing and you being you know, a jackass and all. But I knew, I saw it, between you and Emma, before either of you knew. But I was jealous and I _am _jealous and ... I'm _wrong_."

"Jealous?" He's truly lost now. Because of all the reasons he's come up for Snow's distain for him (some, okay _most_ (Cora, stealing the bean, Belle, etc. etc.), more legitimate than others), jealousy certainly never made the list.

"Before. Before you. Before the Enchanted Forest, before the curse was broken... the first time. We were friends. Emma and I. We were roommates and _friends_ and she shared things with me and I with her... and she was my best friend. And then suddenly, I was her mother. And it was awkward and we weren't friends anymore. But she didn't want me to be her parent either. And it _sucked_. And she was pushing me away and so I followed her to the Enchanted Forest. I couldn't lose her again. And for the first time, she was starting to need me. Or at least tolerate me. And then you showed up. And I saw the way you looked at her and the way she looked at you. And I knew I was about to lose her all over again. And it wasn't fair, because it was finally _my turn_. So I was jealous."

She stops and slams back the last bit of her drink and finally looks him in the eye, her own blue ones full of regret and shame.

"I've never intended to come between you and Emma," he says slowly, unsure if she's through explaining and still not sure exactly what is happening. Also he's feeling more exposed than he'd like. While he and Emma are definitely doing _this_ now, they've avoided any real discussion about _it_, how deep it goes, when it truly began. So having that conversation with her mother? Not exactly on his bucket list. "All I've ever done was to help her get to you, to her family," he points out.

"I know. And somehow that just made it worse. Because we couldn't bring her to us on our own. We weren't enough to convince her to stay after that witch was gone. But _you_ were the one who got through to her."

"I think you overestimate my influence over your daughter. She doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do. And she wants to be here, with her family, with you."

"And with _you_. Because she loves you. Not because you're her blood, because she _chose_ you. I know she won't admit it, but like I said. I saw it from the beginning. You look at each other, and I recognize that look. Charming and I have that. But somehow, what you have is even _more_. And so I'm jealous."

"I won't apologize for loving Emma. Or Henry." He's not really sure what is expected of him. While this isn't the first time he's been persecuted for loving a woman, Snow doesn't appear to be out for his hand. He thinks he'd probably know how to handle that better.

"No! Never apologize for that! That's not what I'm asking. I just, I wanted to explain. Because for a long time, I don't think I really understood why I was so angry at you either. It was just easier to focus on the, you know, pirate past thing. But that's long past and now I see how ridiculous I've been. We're family. All of us. It isn't us versus you. Its just _all of us_. And tonight you weren't there and something was missing."

"An extra hand to do the dishes?" he smirks, uncomfortable with the serious turn this has taken. While he admits he's been waiting for her acceptance, he has no need to be quite so chatty about it.

Snow glares at him, much in the same way Emma does when she knows he's deflecting.

"Yes. Exactly. Henry sucks at chores." She lets him have the out. She knows that one of the things that bonds him to her daughter is their unfamiliarity with being part of something, part of a family and she can't fix everything in one night. "And we have leftovers. It was Charming's turn to cook. You can't make me eat that two nights in a row."

"Ah, I see. This was all just a ruse to poison me then?"

"That's more Regina's style," she volleys before returning to the issue at hand for just a moment. She knows how important this man is to her daughter, to her whole family, and she needs to be sure that he knows her apology is sincere. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. You've clearly put forth an effort these last few months, year even, I want to acknowledge that. I'm sorry it took me so long."

He nods in response, too taken aback for a quip, too out of his element to respond otherwise.

She saves them both from the ensuing awkwardness of the heady conversation though. "We should go. I saved you some ice cream as a peace offering but it took me a while to find you and there's no promising that Henry didn't help himself to your share. I swear, that child came back from New York with a tape worm."

He slides out of the booth behind her, throwing some bills on the table to cover both of their drinks. His now just a melted, watery mess sweating on the table.

"It took you a while? You mean you didn't think to check the _bar_ for a _pirate_ first," he teases.

"No, I thought to check for the pirate at the docks. Where I _thought_ his ship would be. Care to enlighten me?"

"Not particularly. I think I'll save that tale for the next time you're displeased with me. An insurance policy if you will."

She side-eyes him. "You're awfully cocky for a guy who apparently misplaced his home."

"Not misplaced. Just...redefined."

"Just don't tell Charming that's its been redefined in his daughter's bedroom. I'd hate for him to run you through with his sword so soon after this little bonding experience here."

"You have my word."


End file.
